


A Season of Frost & Warmth

by shewhospeakswiththunder



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben Solo is a Mess, Drinking, Drunk Rey (Star Wars), F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendsgiving dinner, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Misunderstandings, Pining, Poe Dameron is the voice of reason, Rey (Star Wars) is a Mess, So many undiagnosed emotional health issues going on, Sweaters, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner, gratuitous descriptions of autumnal weather, idiots to lovers, misjudging people, the Finn and Rey friendship hug, who knew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 19:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhospeakswiththunder/pseuds/shewhospeakswiththunder
Summary: Alternatively titled: “For Lack of Social Grace”For the following paraphrased prompts: Ben and Rey attend a costume party and there is contention between them; also including descriptions of season-appropriate cooler fall temperatures, warm clothing, and pining





	1. The Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeeno2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/gifts).

> Let’s play a game: Guess That AU! A virtual cookie for anyone who guesses correctly 🍪😁💕
> 
> None of you will get it (*evil laugh*)
> 
> (lol jk all of you will)

  


  


Rey and Rose heard the heavy thumping of bass from a block away as they walked to Poe’s house in the chilly October night air. It was that almost bitter cold of true autumn, dry leaves rasping against the pavement as they were scuttled about by a brisk, mischievous breeze.

Poe’s house was only a few blocks away from the half-duplex Rey and Rose shared, but the walk felt much longer in the cold, and Rey shivered as the wind nipped at her thighs through her black nylon stockings.

For a scrounged-up cat costume, Rey figured it didn’t look half-bad. Black thigh-high boots from Rose, a shiny jingle bell borrowed (stolen) from Poe’s jaw-dropping array of Christmas decorations, and cat ears finagled out of black pipe-cleaners and one of Kaydel’s old headbands topped off the hodge-podge ensemble. Rey had always prided herself on her resourcefulness, and thought that the brown whiskers drawn on her cheeks with Rose’s eyeliner were just the icing on the cake. Few of her hastily MacGyvered projects had come together so smoothly, and Rey knew she looked damn good.

Rose, on the other hand, had known about Poe’s Halloween party for months, and had taken scrupulous care to perfect her Rosie the Riveter outfit— bright red lipstick, perfectly coiffed 50’s hair, red bandana and all.

Before leaving, Rose did one last glance in the mirror, then whispered to herself, “I knew I’d look hot in a jumpsuit.” 

Rey, overhearing, laughed to herself and made sure to confirm her friend’s thought before they rushed out the door

People were spilling out onto the small front yard lawn already, some smoking alone, some chatting amiably in the cool air. Stepping up onto the porch, Rey and Rose let themselves in and were immediately awash with music and warmth.

Rose grabbed Rey’s hand and began to weave through the sea of costumes toward the kitchen, where Poe’s infamous Tuba Juice was sure to be found. No one except the tuba section of the marching band fraternity knew exactly what went into the concoction, but no one complained. Every bit as strong as grain alcohol and as tasty as good sangria, Tuba Juice went down easy and always came back to bite with a vengeance the following morning.

This was Rey’s first taste, and it didn’t disappoint. She was quick to finish her first cup, opting to follow Rose’s lead for the most part, nodding along during Rose’s conversations with a house of people who all knew each other from college.

The more Rey sipped, the more conversational she became, and after she discovered that a single drink made her fingers, lips, and the world in general fizzle pleasantly, the call of the dance floor began to sing loudly in her veins.

Rey grabbed Rose’s hand and dragged her to where the music was loudest and the crowd thickest, both holding their red plastic cups high and dancing, feeling the beat of the bass in their bodies. It was hot and sticky and sweaty, and Rey let loose, loving every second of wild abandon with her friend.

And then Rose froze. Following her line of sight, Rey could make out a dark figure looming in a far corner of the room, glaring out over the crowd in vague disapproval like some depressing high school chaperone.

Fumbling for Rey’s hand, Rose grabbed her and pulled her away, back to the kitchen.

“Sorry, I—” Rose started, shaking her head to clear it. “That’s Ben Solo.”

“Wait, the asshole that broke you and Finn up?” His name was familiar for a number of reasons, besides being Poe’s habitually taciturn friend, known for his constant sullen glare and begrudging participation in Poe’s social functions.

Rose’s face crumbled as she nodded, and Rey knew tears were coming. After ushering her to a bathroom and locking the door, Rey hugged Rose hard, unsure of what else to do.

Maybe she was the newest one to the friend group, but she still deeply felt the rift left by Finn’s abrupt absence.

She remembered, even now, the happy chaos of living with Finn and Rose under the same roof, the blossoming warmth of belonging to her small, new family. The morning rush, when Finn would hog the toaster and Rose had to reach over his head for cereal in their cramped kitchen, evenings wrapped up in blankets on the old, creaky couch watching silly 80’s cop movies because they were Rose’s favorite. The little half-duplex was old and falling apart, but had seemed so much bigger by how full of happiness it had been.

Rey had been astonished how quickly she had come to love her new life, and how quickly that happiness had been ripped away.

Through her tears, Rose broke away from Rey and looked at her fiercely. “Tonight is going to be fun, damn it!” she declared emphatically, blowing her nose with toilet paper. “I’m not going to let some asshole out there ruin it for me!”

“That’s the spirit,” Rey said, smiling at her.

Balling her fists, Rose yelled, “We’re going to drink this place dry and dance our asses off!”

“Yeah!” Rey echoed, laughing, already back in the mood. “More Tuba Juice!”

“Tuba Juice!” Rose howled, bursting out of the bathroom with fiery determination.

Drinks were passed out, and Rey soon lost track of how many she’d had. They talked with a cowboy version of Poe at one point, although Rey’s reality was fuzzy enough to only recall she had given him a sloppy, ecstatic hug despite only meeting him a few times.

Somewhere down the line she lost Rose and found herself alone at the back of the living room with none other than the tall, lurking Ben Solo himself. Her courage now bolstered a thousandfold by the alcohol and her vicarious ire at her beautiful Rose’s pain, when she noticed him leveling his condescending glower at _ her, _ she stomped right up to him.

Shouting over the still-booming speakers, she said, “Do you want to dance or something?”

He blinked in surprise, face shifting through emotions Rey couldn’t accurately track in her current state. 

“No,” he intoned after studying her for a moment, his deep voice difficult to hear.

“Then why are you staring?” she shot back. She had only asked to try to get under his skin and wipe that pretentious glare off his face, but his outright refusal still stung.

“I’m not staring,” he growled defensively, looking anywhere but her. Which…_ rude._

“Listen here, _ buddy,”_ Rey said, slurring a little and poking her index finger into his broad chest with a little push.

Clearly completely sober, he silently regarded her with an odd expression, although she thought his breath might have changed at her sudden proximity.

“You’re not even wearing a costume,” she sneered, suddenly distracted from what she was going to say by the plain black cotton t-shirt under her finger. “What kind of asshole doesn’t wear a costume to a Halloween party?”

He grimaced, but didn’t say anything, which only incensed her further. 

“If you don’t even want to be here, then why bother, huh? No one really wants giant miserable men hanging around being all... judgy and glarey, anyway.”

It slid off her tongue before she could drunkenly wonder if that was too much to say to a stranger at a friend’s party. Ben went very still, then Rey saw something crumple inside him before he shoved off the wall and stalked away, leaving her feeling strangely bereft.

Whatever. Asshole.

She tried to take a sip from her cup and found it empty, so she toddled her way back to the kitchen for a refill, determined to find Rose as soon as possible.

Instead, she stumbled upon Poe and Ben.

The back-porch sliding screen door was wide open, probably in an attempt to cool the house from the steamy heat of all the dancing bodies, but that left Rey perfectly capable of hearing the conversation between the two of them.

“Leaving? Already?” Poe frowned, dressed in an impressively roguish deputy costume, spurs and assless-chaps lending an amusing authenticity to the costume. Rey made a mental note to compliment him on the outfit, but was distracted by the conversation, which was rapidly growing louder.

“You didn’t even try—” Poe started angrily.

“Fuck off!” Ben roared.

Rey was taken aback, unused to anyone treating Poe so caustically, but Ben didn’t stop there.

_“Fuck _ you and your stupid friends. Fuck this party, fuck _ all of it!” _ He stepped through the open door and slammed the screen shut behind him, sending the frame clacking on its tracks and bouncing back half open.

Rey watched him, disbelief and disgust churning inside her, and for a suspended moment, his angry, hurting eyes met hers—

—and then he was gone.


	2. The Hay Ride

The remainder of the party went as well as could be expected, in that Rey didn’t remember much of it. She woke up in her own bed, mercifully, trying to piece together the events of the night through the blistering headache that, although completely expected, she was not prepared for.

It was a Saturday, which meant an afternoon shift at Han’s car garage, but even if she hadn’t been sporting the hangover of the century, she still would have dreaded going in light of what had happened last night.

Whatever fates had decided to weave together Rey’s life course had thrown in a convoluted curve ball in the form of the Solo family. Rey loved Han, and was indebted to him in more ways than she could count, but what she couldn’t understand was how, exactly, such a great guy could have fathered the world’s biggest jerk.

The day she had been hired, Han had taken her back to his messy, wood-paneled, paper-strewn office and had her jot down some personal information.

“Don’t want to know too much, we’ll keep this under the table,” he had added, with a conspiratorial wink and lopsided grin.

Rey had smiled back, already feeling at ease with him, and as he shuffled through the untidiness scattered across his barely visible desk, Rey’s eye had caught a family picture featuring Han, his wife, whom she would come to know as the ever-kind although occasionally imperious Leia, and his son, whose likeness stared into the camera with a half-hearted smile on his face.

It was only much later that Rey would learn that the young boy in the photo was not only the jerk who left his father and the family business high and dry when Han needed him the most, but also the man who peripherally circulated among her newfound friend group and made a habit of ruining people’s lives.

How Poe could willingly maintain a friendship with a guy like that, Rey didn’t know.

“Hey, kiddo,” Han greeted her, sliding out from underneath a car and wiping grease off his hands when she showed up at three o’clock. “Late night?”

Rey knew she looked as awful as she felt, but took no offense to the remark. “I might be hungover, but I can still do this job better than you,” she ribbed, comfortable with their usual light-hearted banter.

Han laughed heartily and rolled back underneath the car. “Hey, you see this leak in here? Don't drink it.”

Rey couldn't help but chuckle and roll her eyes, and got diligently got to work with no complaint. She was used to hard work, and today’s shift was no different. Besides, it was her own dumb fault for nursing the hangover anyway, and she didn’t want to let Han down.

* * *

Autumn was Poe’s special love. He enjoyed winter, stoically endured spring (and his allergies), and even celebrated the summer while it lasted, but fall was his time to shine. For whatever reason, the season brought on in full force the fervent desire to participate in every autumnal activity he could coerce his friends into attending. 

It was thus that Rey found herself sitting on a particularly prickly bale of hay, situated in the back of a rickety wagon that carted her and her friends along a trail of bright foliage on a brisk, sunny afternoon not long after the Halloween party debacle.

Much to Rey’s displeasure, Poe had successfully blackmailed Ben into attending the hayride outing, and he now sat across from her, his arms crossed and his usual glower aimed at the wood-slatted floor of the wagon.

After having given the matter some thought, Rey had decided that perhaps she did understand after all why Literal Drop of Sunshine Poe Dameron would take it as his sacred duty to ensure his long-time grump of a friend would enjoy life if it was the last thing he did. What Rey still couldn’t wrap her mind around was how Poe could continue to do so after the way she had witnessed Ben treat him the night of the party.

As the wagon trundled its way down the dirt path, Rey allowed herself to sit and simply enjoy the experience for what it was. The air was chilly, but she had bundled up in her soft scarf and a light coat over a knit sweater, ensuring her comfort despite the weather. Craning her head back, she looked up at the jewel-toned crystalline sky filtering in through the brilliant canopy. For a moment, she felt the magic of it all, closing her eyes and breathing in the loamy smell of earth and sun-warmed fallen leaves. It was heavenly.

When she opened her eyes again, it was to Ben Solo quickly averting his, adopting his typical scowl. She chose to ignore it, rolling her eyes. He wasn’t worth the aggravation, and the resident asshole wasn’t going to ruin the day’s fun for her.

The rest of her friends chattered happily as the ride ended and they all headed toward the crudely constructed wooden stand offering hot cider and donuts for refreshment. Before Rey could follow the group, she heard Ben softly call her name.

She turned, steeling herself for whatever might come next. An apology, perhaps, for his abhorrent behavior at the party.

“Yes?” she said, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Ben had shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark jacket and now stood stiffly, his jaw working, as though trying to chew through whatever he was about to say.

He was silent for too long, and Rey was about to brush him off and rejoin her friends when he finally blurted out, “Can I take you out to dinner sometime?”

Rey’s mouth fell open, positive she couldn’t have heard him correctly.

A strangled, “What?” was all she could force out.

His brows furrowed. “Is… that a yes or a no?” he asked, a little defensively.

“Like on a _ date?” _

“Yes, like on a date,” he echoed, a growl creeping into his voice.

“Are you out of your mind?” she hissed at him. “After all the shit you’ve pulled?”

His mouth clamped shut, and she watched his expression mirror the reeling of his mind. “Is this about Finn?”

“Of course it is! You broke my best friend’s heart!”

“I gave Finn advice that he was free to follow or ignore however he wanted—”

“Bullshit!” she snapped, trying her best to keep her voice from echoing across the entire farm. 

“Long distance relationships never work, and he wasn't even sure about it from the beginning—”

“They loved each other! They would have figured it out, but you ruined everything before they could, you _ asshole!” _

Ben fell silent in an obvious affirmation of guilt.

“You know what?” she continued, a tirade pooling in her throat. “Even if you hadn’t broken them up, I still wouldn’t go out with you. You are the biggest asshole I have ever met, and the way you treat people, even if they’re your friends, and especially your family—!”

“My _ family!?” _ he cut her off, his own voice rising in volume, his eyes darkening.

“Yes! Your parents gave you everything and you threw it all away!”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he sneered, his voice suddenly quiet and more dangerous because of it. “What does it matter to you how I treat my family anyway?”

“Because you _ have one!” _ She was finally shouting in earnest, and honestly, she didn’t even care. Frustrated tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. 

“Han was counting on you,” she accused, angrily swiping at the wetness on her cheeks with the back of her hand, the fact that she was actually crying in front of him adding another simmering layer to her fury.

“How do you know—” he cut himself off, his eyes raking over her as if seeing her for the first time, then widening with a sudden epiphany.

He leaned in closer to her and inhaled, opening his mouth as if to speak, but instead pursed his lips and turned on his heel, marching across the open field toward the cars.

Balling her fists and gritting her teeth against a silent scream, Rey remained stock still, letting the anger wash over her as best she could. She needed to collect herself before she caught up with the group. God knows she didn’t want to answer any questions they might have.

Taking a deep breath, she shot a death glare at the dark coat striding to his black car.

_Good riddance, _ she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping the autumnal aesthetic makes up for the angst 🍂 🍎 🍁 😘
> 
> Any takers on Guess That AU!?


	3. The Unexpected Meeting

Han didn’t like to admit he needed his bifocal cheaters to read any print smaller in font size than 15, so he had discreetly pulled Rey aside on her next shift, a week later, to ask if she would run to his house as a favor and bring back a ‘small brown case,’ which he believed to be sitting on the kitchen island. He surreptitiously handed her the keys to his ancient, puttering Falcon, always having insisted it was the best and most reliable car in the world despite constant jibing from his employees.

Flattered by Han’s trust in her and frankly ecstatic to get behind the wheel of the revered Falcon, Rey readily agreed to the task and eventually found herself in the surprisingly upscale neighborhood Han had directed her to.

Each literal mansion of a house had a sprawling, perfectly manicured lawn, and it struck Rey as odd that Han lived in such a place. She knew him to be somewhat scatterbrained and  _ laissez faire _ to a fault, and laughed to herself at the mental image of him meticulously trimming hedges of his own free will. As she pulled into the smoothly paved driveway of 456 Tantive Run, she guessed that this far more likely was Leia’s decision.

Maybe Han was content with his rustbucket clunker of a car, but Rey was positive the sleek black Silencer already parked in the driveway was more to Leia’s liking, and she smiled, looking forward to seeing her again.

Her thoughts once more turned, unbidden, to Ben Solo, and how much of an actual idiot he was for cutting ties with his family. Shaking her head, she chided herself, shoving the idea away. He didn’t deserve the mental energy.

Not that she thought about him often. Because she definitely didn’t.

She rang the doorbell with a little more force than was probably necessary, eager for distraction. From somewhere inside the house she could make out a distant, “Coming!” and shortly after Leia’s smiling face greeted Rey as she ushered her inside.

The pristine, shining vista that opened before Rey left her speechless. She had known the house was big from the exterior, but the size of the interior was jaw-dropping.

White marble floors with shimmering veins of charcoal black ran the length of the palatial foyer, flanked by a grand staircase that split at the second floor and elegantly spiraled down to meet the marble. Paintings made of actual paint graced the creamy white walls, and the chandelier cascading from the ceiling sparkled like so many drops of shimmering, crystalline dew.

Leia led Rey briskly toward the kitchen through a staggeringly large set of ornate French doors to the right wing of the house, chattering amiably about how incorrigible Han was, how she’d love to stay and chat but had a prior engagement to get ready for, and for Rey to feel free to see herself out when she found the glasses.

Rey was only half listening as she made a conscious effort not to snap her neck as one part after another of the Solo’s residence demanded her attention, including the brightly lit alcove that housed Ben’s high school senior portrait. Which was also  _ actually painted. _

The kitchen itself was a sight to behold, with modern recessed lighting and probably the most expensive marble countertop money could buy. Leia gracefully excused herself, but after Rey spotted the leather glasses case, she couldn’t help but return to the portrait in the hall, drawn to it.

It could have been the jarring difference between Rey’s and Ben’s upbringing that pulled her back, that he had had his senior picture painted by a real, living artist while Rey had never had one done at all.

It most certainly  _ wasn’t _ that the portrait in front of her captured his likeness to such an uncanny degree that she could swear those familiar somber, piercing eyes stirred something deep inside her ribcage and now made it hard to breathe.

Standing there, utterly entranced, she had to admit he was somewhat handsome. Age had only bettered his looks, his now-longer hair framing his face more fetchingly than the large unhidden ears did in the picture.

But, against her better judgment, Rey grudgingly decided they weren’t bad either.

The first notes of piano music dragged her attention away from the portrait. Leia must have been listening to it from somewhere deeper in the house, but it was a pretty enough melody that Rey closed her eyes and let the music wash over her.

She didn’t have words to describe it, but she somehow  _ felt _ the notes echoing through her, and immediately understood why people still liked classical music so much. Tears gathered in her eyes as the memory of sneaking out onto the roof outside her bedroom window as a little girl, gazing up at the stars, tugged at her heart. 

The music brought back all the aching loneliness of that night, sitting on the cold shingles, arms wrapped around her knees against the chilly air. Rey recalled also the small spark of hope lit deep inside her, the knowledge that much like the stars in the heavens, she was not alone. At first glance, the points of light seemed separate, distant, cold. But even as they were far away, they were still surrounded by other stars, all shining brightly, weaving the incredible tapestry of the night sky together. Even as a child, Rey had believed that someday, she would find a home and fill it with people who loved her. 

“It’s been a long time since that piano has been played.”

Rey jumped, jolted from her reverie by Leia’s sudden reappearance.

Trying to breathe through the racing of her heart and wondering at the mistiness in Leia’s eyes, Rey asked, “This isn’t a recording?”

“No, no. That’s Ben, my son. He would never admit it, but he’s always been such a gifted pianist,” Leia said with a motherly smile, dabbing lightly at the wetness on the corner of her eyes. “He’s taking his dear old mother out for lunch today.”

At the sudden absence of piano music, Rey felt cold dread start to claw up her throat.

Footsteps sounded on the other side of the kitchen, and to her complete horror, Rey whirled around to see Ben emerge from the doorway.

Wanting nothing else more in that moment than to melt into the marble floor and cease to exist entirely, Rey was left with no option other than to clutch Han’s glasses case in a vice-grip and silently panic.

Ben’s mouth dropped open in a small ‘o’ of surprise, as shocked into stillness as Rey was.

“Hi,” Rey squeaked into the tense quiet.

“Have you two met before?” Leia asked.

Ben waited patiently for Rey’s response, studying her, ready to gauge her reaction.

“Yes, we’ve… we’ve met,” she managed to choke out.

“Oh,” Leia said, the wheels in her mind clearly turning. Her gaze flicked back and forth between them, shrewdly reading the tension. To Rey, she offered, “Would you like to join us for lunch? I’m sure Han wouldn’t mind—”

“No!” Rey almost shouted, blushing at herself. “No, I—uh, I’m on the clock,” she tried to recover. “I should get back.”

“Maybe next time,” Leia said tactfully, suddenly rummaging through her purse. “Oh, looks like I left my wallet upstairs. I’ll be right back.”

She exited, leaving Rey with Ben and the unbearably awkward silence that hung between them. He refused to look at her, and Rey fumbled for what to say, what to do.

“I, um, I’d better go.”

He pursed his lips and raised his brows, waiting for her to leave. She willed her legs to move toward the front door, despite the distinct impression that they were made of jelly, but before she made more than a few halting steps, she half-turned back to him.

Before she could think better of it, she said to him over her shoulder, “That was really beautiful. What you played.”

The blush that had settled on her cheeks rioted anew at the tweak of amusement dancing in the corner of his eyes as he now regarded her.

Nodding slightly in acknowledgement of the compliment, he quietly said, “Thank you.”

Rey turned on her heel and practically fled, more mortified than she had ever been in her entire life. She threw open the Falcon’s door and slammed it into reverse, tires squealing on the pavement in protest.

She was so preoccupied that she missed several turns and arrived back at the car garage far later than she had any right to be.

“Get lost out there, kiddo?” Han joked as Rey dropped the case and keys on the desk in front of him.

She stilled, a thousand questions bubbling up inside her.

“Hey, something wrong?” Han asked, looking up at her from his chair in sincere concern.

Doing her best to pull herself together, she bit her lip.

“Han…” she started, haltingly, uncertain. “I thought you said your son… wasn’t around anymore.”

“Why? Was he over there? Did something happen?”

“No, no, I—” She had trouble forcing the words out, but still appreciative of Han’s concern. “I mean, he was there, I just thought that he…I don’t how to say this—”

Han sighed heavily and swiveled in his desk chair to look at her fully, swiping a hand down his face in a gesture of emotional fatigue.

“Kid, I’ll be honest. It’s been a rough few years for us. But Ben… well, he finally reached out. Been around a lot more lately. Can’t tell you why  _ now, _ after all this time, but it’s good. Leia’s happy. She missed him.”

Rey viscerally felt the missing words,  _ I missed him, too, _ hang heavy in the air.

“You sure you’re okay?” Han continued, scrutinizing her.

“I was just… confused, I guess.”

“Yeah, you and me both,” he said, turning back to the untidy stacks of paperwork and the practically prehistoric calculator on the desk. “Not complaining though, we take what we can get.” Opening the glasses case, he gave a brief bark of laughter. “Forgot to put the damn things in the case. Would you believe it?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who like Star Wars trivia, [this is the inspiration](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Tantive_IV) for the Solo's street address.
> 
> For those of you who enjoy music, [this is the inspiration](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QDc9W7PUIEg) for Ben's piano piece.


	4. The Preparation

No one in Rey’s group of friends had ever celebrated Thanksgiving in the American-traditional sense of the word.

Poe had been raised strictly Jewish, and Rey had experienced a few lackluster attempts at the holiday from various frazzled foster parents. Rose’s family had emigrated from Vietnam, and while committed to celebrating the holiday, always opted for home-style Vietnamese cuisine.

Last year, Poe had asked everyone to bring whatever they would normally have at home for a celebration of Friendsgiving, in favor of the time-honored tradition of sharing home-cooked food together in gratitude for each other. As it was, Poe dearly loved a party with a theme, and had decided to mix it up this year and lean hard into the all-American style casseroles that always looked so good in the movies.

Rey was sitting at Poe’s kitchen table, Googling ‘sweet potato casserole’ recipes and currently scrolling through allrecipes.com with mixed success.

“This one has marshmallows baked on top,” she reported to Poe with a scrunched nose, skeptical of the combination.

“No, I feel like that’s right, I’ve definitely seen that on TV before,” he reassured her, his gaze focused on his laptop.

Rey allowed silence to fall between them before swallowing nervously and asking, “Did you invite Ben?”

“I don’t remember,” Poe said vaguely, his attention still on the laptop screen.

“Well, if you haven’t, don’t. I don’t think I can take another party with him depressing everyone in the room.” She faked a casual laugh and ignored the fact that her words sounded a bit… hollow now.

Poe sighed and set down a mug of steaming hot chocolate, now looking at her intently. “Rey, he’s my friend. I wish you’d be a little nicer. He’s really not a bad guy.”

Blinking, Rey stared. “Are you kidding? He treats you like shit.”

Poe laughed, surprising her. “Ben just doesn’t have… a certain social grace,” he explained, waving his hand in an amorphous gesture.

“Oh, right, because not having social graces means you have the right to be a jerk,” Rey muttered, returning to her phone.

“Why exactly do you always feel the need to bring him up, then, if you hate him so much?”

She froze, her head whipping up. “I don’t  _ always _ bring him up.”

“Yeah, you do,” he responded smugly, taking a loud slurp from his mug.

In all honesty, she couldn’t refute it. To her irritation, her waking thoughts had been almost exclusively preoccupied by Ben Solo since she had last run into him at his parents’ house. Since she heard him play the piano. And watched as his eyes scanned her studiously in a tense silence. And heard him voice, in that dark baritone,  _ ‘Thank you.’ _

Maybe he had decided to make amends with his parents, but that didn’t change the fact that he still treated his friends poorly, and willingly ruined peoples’ love lives.

Poe gave a small knowing  _ hmm, _ and went back to scrolling on his laptop. “Look, just give the guy a break. Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s had a shitty go of it. He’s doing his best.”

“Yeah, poor little rich boy. Life must be so hard when everything a person could ever want is handed to you on a silver platter,” Rey grumbled, unable to decide if it was actual dislike or pure stubbornness that made her say it.

“Rey,” Poe instantly reprimanded, deadly serious. “First of all, stop being such a brat. Having money doesn’t mean you automatically have a perfect life. Second, you have  _ no idea _ what Ben has been through. I mean this in the kindest way possible, but  _ shut up. _ Snotty is not a good look on you.”

Absolute fury at Poe’s scolding was Rey’s first defense, but she bit her tongue. It hurt her pride to hear it, of course, but the more thought she gave it, the more she realized that maybe Poe was right.

“Now, back to green bean casserole possibilities,” Poe said, changing the subject. “Apparently, if we play our cards right, every ingredient can come from a can! How American!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh. It's a little angsty. Forgive me, dear giftee. For the prompt to work, it had to be this way. For now 😉💕


	5. The Friendsgiving

  


  


The day of Friendsgiving dawned overcast and damp. A bitter wind gusted through the leafless trees, prompting Rey to don her thickest winter coat and knit hat before braving the elements and trudging down the street to Poe’s, deeply grateful when she finally stepped into the shelter Poe’s porch provided and ringing the doorbell.

When Finn opened the door, she almost dropped her dish of corn casserole.

Her wordless shriek of surprise was muffled by the tight hug he immediately pulled her into, as much as the bulky casserole dish allowed, and Rey let herself melt into him, warmed from the inside out at having her friend back in her arms.

Glimpsing Rose over his shoulder doused her happiness like a cold shower. How did nobody think to warn Rose that Finn would be there? After everything that had happened between them?

She did her best to hide her growing concern as she shrugged off her puffy coat and rubbed her hands together to coax some heat back into them, all the while plastering a wide smile on her face.

At the first opportunity, Rey grabbed Rose and dragged her into the kitchen, where Poe, sporting a festive apron, was placidly whisking gravy on the stove.

Rose cut her off before she could say a single word. “I know, I know. It’s okay. Really.”

“How is this okay?” Rey hissed before whirling on Poe. “How could you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Poe said, continuing to whisk and adding a pinch of flour to the concoction with a little flourish of his hand.

“Rey,” Rose said, dragging her attention back. “Seriously, everything’s fine. Finn and I… we, um, we wanted to keep it on the down low, but… we’re back together. Tentatively. We just don’t want it to be weird.”

Rey was hurt, and it showed plainly on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We were going to tell you tonight,” Rose explained. “Finn wanted to surprise you, and I didn’t want to jinx anything.”

“When did you…?”

“Just last week. It’s actually kind of crazy how it all happened. I guess Ben just called Finn out of the blue one day—”

Rey blinked. “Wait. Like…  _ Ben _ Ben?”

“Yes, and then—”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rey breathed.

It was Poe’s turn to whirl on her. “Rey,” he started in warning, thrusting the gravy-covered whisk in her direction. “Do  _ not _ start. We talked about this.”

“Listen, I know we don’t like him— _ didn’t _ like him, but he even paid for Finn’s plane ticket. Turns out he’s not such an asshole after all,” Rose said with a rueful smile and a shrug. “Come on, let’s grab a glass of wine and I’ll tell you  _ everything.” _

“I’ll be right there. I just… I need some air.”

What she needed was a damn cigarette, she thought to herself as she sped back out the front door, despite having quit years ago.

It was still freezing outside, and Rey realized she had forgotten to grab her coat. She rubbed her arms through her sweater, then shoved her hands into her armpits for warmth, unable to bring herself to go back inside for it.

She needed to think.

Every tenable reason Rey had for disliking Ben Solo had been debunked in days. His attempts to reconcile with his estranged parents impressed her. Rey didn’t think she could reasonably take any credit, but for it to happen so soon after the disastrous hayride, she had to wonder if what she said had gotten under his skin. It didn’t really matter—Han and Leia had their son back in their lives, and that was enough.

Apparently, he had even made the effort to reunite Finn and Rose, and  _ that… _ Rey had a hard time wrapping her mind around the concept. Her little family, back together and  _ happy.  _ Tears began to pool in her eyes but she hastily wiped them away, sniffling.

If he had actually done it—called Finn, personally paid for his ticket—then maybe even his past behavior could be excused. If what Poe told her was true (she had no reason to believe it wasn’t), and the guy had a rough childhood, she couldn’t really blame him if he struggled socially. And, looking back, his actions were starting to seem more awkward than malicious.

In hindsight, between her drunken belligerence at the Halloween party and outright  _ annihilation  _ of his attempt to ask her on a date, the argument could be made—

Guilt dropped heavily in her stomach and she cringed as the full impact of all the things she had done, all the things she had said, crashed down on her. Ben wasn’t the jerk, Rey realized.  _ She was. _

She had to talk to him, apologize to him. Thank him.

The glass of wine Rose had offered before suddenly seemed like an excellent idea.

As luck would have it, the only seat remaining at the dinner table when she returned was right next to Ben. Quickly downing a glass of cranberry wine and promptly filling it right back up to the brim, Rey sat down and tried to make peace with the universe. This was obviously an opportunity for penance.

He didn’t turn to her and avoided any physical contact at all costs, focused intently instead on the various plates of steaming food making their way around the table. The laughter and amiable chatter at the opposite end seemed far away, and contrasted sharply with the terse silence between him and Rey.

Fumbling for a topic of conversation, Rey blurted, “I made the corn casserole,” as she passed the warm dish to him.

Scooping a generous helping onto his plate, he flicked a glance up to her and murmured, “I brought the biscuits.”

“Oh! They look great,” Rey said, immediately hating the higher pitch in her voice that gave away her nerves.

Silence fell between them again, but Rey was determined. Slathering a pat of butter on the biscuit she had taken, she took a large bite, and was surprised at how heavenly light and fluffy it was.

Through her half-eaten mouthful, she said with absolute sincerity, “This is amazing.”

“It was my grandmother’s recipe,” he said quickly, before shaking his head and finally turning to look at her. He pitched his voice low, so only Rey could hear it. “You don’t have to do this.”

She swallowed thickly. “Do what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing back and forth between them. “I’m just here because Poe gives me shit when I don’t come to his parties.” He struggled, his jaw working in that chewing-through-his-thoughts motion before continuing. “You don’t have to talk to me.”

This took her by surprise, and she scrambled. “I don’t mind talking to you.”

“Really, Rey, we don’t have to do this. You don’t have to pretend—”

“I know I’ve been awful to you,” she interrupted, her heart rate spiking. “I’m sorry.” It almost physically hurt to force out the words. She had always been shit at apologies.

The wide-eyed stare he then gave her would have been funny, but with the ball of anxiety in Rey’s stomach, humor was a distant thought.

“I know what you did for Finn and Rose. And Han and Leia. You don’t know what it means to them. To me.” Biting her bottom lip, she fought against the burn in her throat that threatened tears, but finally managing to choke out, “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” His gaze still lingered on her, studying her.

“No, it’s not,” she protested, reaching out and lightly touching his arm.

Every muscle in her body froze, every cell and fiber of her being focused on that one point of contact between them. Slowly, his stare slid up from where her fingers met the skin of his arm, their eyes locking as the hairs on her arms rose at the rush of electricity sparking between them. Ben opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted.

“Rey, you’re hogging the potatoes!” Finn called to her.

Jumping into action, she practically threw the tureen piled high with mashed potatoes at Ben, who with equal alacrity handed it off to Rose, seated on his other side.

The blush warming Rey’s cheeks deepened at Poe’s smug smile.

Helped along by the steady stream of cranberry wine, the rest of the evening flew by. Before she knew it, Rey was sliding her arms into her thick coat and pulling on her hat, gearing up for the frigid walk home. Before her foot left the last step of the porch, she heard her name called out from behind.

It was Ben. Rose had turned, too, and shot Rey a look asking if Rey needed moral support, but Rey waved her on and waited for Ben on the sidewalk.

Their breaths puffed out in clouds of light grey in the freezing air, all the colder for the early onset of evening. Every tensed line of Ben’s hunched body told Rey he was nervous. He wasn’t the only one.

“Uh…” he started, running his hand through his hair and subconsciously mouthing the word ‘fuck’ to himself.

Shoving her hands deeper into her coat pockets, Rey waited patiently for him to say what he needed.

“Can I take you out to dinner sometime?” he finally forced out in a rush.

Rey blinked. She had spent so long hating him, recounting his mistakes, focusing only on his character flaws that she hadn’t actually thought about what to do when her lens of anger was removed.

An uncomfortable vulnerability settled on her as she realized that every incorrect preconceived notion of Ben had been stripped away one by one. In fact, she was now perfectly free to even consider  _ liking  _ him. After all he had done to fix every flaw of character she had so brashly thrown in his face, the issue now was whether or not he could ever forgive her.

Glancing up, she saw his posture start to slump at her silence, his shoulders already hunching in anticipation of her answer. She lifted her chin up and replied, “Yes. When?”

He had obviously not expected an answer in the affirmative, but after getting his bearings on the situation, slowly suggested, “Saturday? At six?”

Rey’s afternoon shift at the garage would be over by then. “That sounds great. Here, let me give you my number.”

Pulling off one of her mittens and holding out her hand, she watched as he struggled to extract his phone from his jeans pocket, their fingers touching for a split second and shooting off a hot bolt of lightning directly into her chest. The cold seeping into her joints from the November air slowed her fingers, but she managed to send herself a text message, and felt the reciprocal buzz in her pocket only moments afterward.

Handing Ben his phone back, she took a moment to study his features, endearingly bewildered, and said, “Talk to you later.”

She turned and left him standing stock still on the sidewalk, her own emotions a jumble, but found herself biting back a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How will the date go???? 🤷🤞😘


	6. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion. Finally 😅

They had decided to keep it simple—meet up at the corner bar down the street for dinner and a few drinks. It was a good plan, an easy plan. Casual.

What Rey _ hadn’t _ planned on was how little she wanted the evening to end.

For a small, local place, the Castle was a hidden gem. It was impossible to tell from the nondescript exterior, but the minute anyone walked in, the atmosphere was warm and inviting. Exposed brick and raw wood lent the space cozy comfort, and the back room with a hearth and worn-in couches gave the place a homey intimacy.

The fire crackling in the stone hearth had Rey shimmying out of her coat quickly, despite the crisp temperature outside, while Ben went to order their drinks. When he returned, he studied the seating situation for a moment before crossing to the overstuffed chair opposite Rey’s couch.

He placed the full pint glasses on the coffee table and shrugged out of his own coat. Pausing, he glanced between Rey and his own seat.

“Am I too far away?” he asked hesitantly, blushing at his own question.

Rey smiled, then gestured for him to join her on the couch. He obliged, and a pleasant buzz that had nothing to do with the beer hummed through her as the sofa dipped under his weight.

Taking a sip to stall for lack of conversation, Rey started, “Do you come here often—”

“How was your week—”

They cut off after starting at the same time, chuckling in mild embarrassment.

“What do you think Poe would say if he saw us right now?” Rey asked playfully.

Ben rolled his eyes and pitched his voice a little higher in an uncannily accurate impersonation. “Well, it’s about damn time. Who talks now, you first? Me first?”

Beer almost spurted out of Rey’s nose in surprised laughter, caught completely off-guard.

“Oh my God,” she choked out, tears starting to stream down her face. “That was spot on.”

“Are you okay?”

Ben’s genuine concern touched her, his outstretched hand wavering in the space between them.

“Fine, fine,” she croaked. “Just down the wrong pipe.” She coughed a few more times, the alcohol burning uncomfortably. “I did not expect that.”

“Sorry.”

“No! That was the funniest thing I’ve seen all week. I didn’t know you did such a good Poe.”

“I’ve known him for too long,” Ben deflected, taking a sip from his own glass.

Conversation flowed surprisingly easily between them the rest of the evening, ranging from Poe’s antics to their unexpected common taste in poets to their wildly differing opinions about science fiction versus fantasy. She found his laugh, often startled out of him, sent her heart pounding, and the way his head tilted before he came up with an argument oddly endearing. His humor was every bit as sharp as hers, and she realized his pursed lips and long pauses were marks of his careful thoughts, rather than the haughtiness and contempt she previously attributed them to. When things began to wind down, Rey found herself reluctant to go.

Sliding her arms back into her coat, she followed Ben out the door and onto the sidewalk, stopping before turning for home. A light snow had begun to fall from the dark sky while they had been inside.

“This was fun,” she said shyly, her words appearing in the frigid air as little puffs of condensation.

“Yeah,” Ben replied, in that increasingly familiar earnestness. Catching herself from staring into his amber eyes, Rey suddenly wondered what might have been if things had gone differently—if he had asked her to dance at Halloween, if she had said yes to that first dinner, if… 

If it wasn’t too late.

“Ben, I—” Rey started.

He only looked at her with gentle curiosity, and his kindness and patience struck her deeply.

“I wish… Look, when I met you, I only knew you as the guy who broke up my best friends, and I didn’t even think there might be more to you than that, and I was drunk and not thinking and just really mad and upset and you were right there and… God, I wish I could go back in time and… and… that stupid party! I was so awful to you, and you didn’t deserve it, I’m so sorry—” 

She felt the tears gather in the corners of her eyes. There was no other time in Rey’s recollection that she had been so full of regret, so jealous of all the time she had wasted hating someone when they could have been friends, spending time together, learning about one another. 

“I was so wrong about you,” she finished, angrily wiping at a lone tear trailing down her cheek, equally shameful and horrified that she was crying in front of him.

It was _ so _ too soon to be wracked by this depth of feeling for someone, and the turbulence of embarrassment and despair clashed uncomfortably with the overwhelmingly potent affection for him that was currently breaking her heart.

“You have to know,” Ben began, “Finn asked me for advice. He was nervous about going long distance with Rose, and I… I don’t have a lot of experience with… relationship… stuff. So I told him what my father told me once: don’t get tied down to one girl, keep your options open. It was bad advice, but I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t think he and Rose were that serious, and I didn’t mean to… to hurt anyone. I’m not good with...” he glanced at the ground and mumbled, “Dating. Obviously. I told Finn I was wrong, to talk to Rose, but I just... I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

Rey stood frozen, absorbing his words.

“And you were right. About my family, about everything. Things were tough with them, but… I was a jerk. I needed a kick in the ass, and you gave it to me.” He smiled ruefully.

“Ben, I never should have—”

“I love you,” Ben said, almost casually before his eyes widened in absolute surprise and panic. “Fuck._ Fuck,”_ he berated himself, casting a desperate look up at the overcast night sky as if in supplication. “Just—no, that didn’t happen, I didn’t mean that—”

Rey had to laugh at his well-intentioned awkwardness, although it came out sounding a little water-logged through her tears. Reaching out for his hand, she took it in both of hers and brought in to her chest, hoping that some of her body heat would warm up his cold bare fingers through her gloves. The movement had forced her to step closer to him, and when she glanced up, she found his face so much closer to hers. Close enough now that, if she wanted to, she could stand up on tiptoe and kiss him.

So she did.

At first stunned, Ben then caught up quickly and moved his free hand to her neck, pulling her gently into him as his lips sought hers, each kiss more urgent, more needy.

Rey broke away for air, but lingered close, whispering up to him, “Forgive me?”

“If you’ll do the same,” he breathed.

She nodded, relief flooding every bone in her body. “Take me home?”

This earned her a small half-smile, and her heart flipped in her chest at the sight of it. Taking the hand she still held captive, she wrapped his arm around her shoulders and huddled into him. As she pulled him along the short walk back to Rey’s house, his long gait threw hers off just a bit, but soon they both fell into step.

And as they walked, adjusting their steps to match each other, Rey decided there was no need for social graces when there were loving arms to hold her close when the bitter winds of life blew. Nothing mattered more.

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this hit all the autumnal/cooler weather notes your heart desired, Jeeno! Thanks for some fun prompts 😁
> 
> A HUGE thank you to my beta, Erulisse, for making all the jumbled thoughts in my head flow better in narrative form. She is MAGNIFICENT.
> 
> Thanks to all who might read, as well! I'm always on to something new, so come visit me on [tumblr](https://shewhospeakswiththunder.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/shewhospeaks2), where I occasionally do the update thing.


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